(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I haven't been writing much this last month...I just haven't felt like it. Most nights in my personal journal I'll write just one short paragraph, and that only out of habit and not so much because I want to write. My notebooks at school have been filled with pages of drawings where there used to be ramble-y writing. I don't write nearly as many massive emails to people as I used to. I think I haven't been updating this as much as I used to either.
But it's a problem because still everyday I see and feel things and think "I really need to write something about that," and then it'll just disappear and I'll forget all about it.
Though, it's not all bad. I've really been into drawing lately, which is another good creative outlet. Looking through my notebooks it's pages and pages of mostly clothes design and abstract-type stuff (think "Emotions"...oh, man those were the days) that I would never show to anybody because it looks like crap. And that's just as good as having pages and pages of half-finished letters to people and half-finished song lyrics and ramblings about politics or my relationship with someone or descriptions of some fictional character...that I would never show to anybody because it all reads like crap.
Mar 20, 2006
Mar 17, 2006
Happy Holiday!
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Every year, I get excited for St. Patrick's Day. However, the only way it's actually different from the average day is I make sure to wear green. And recall that 3 out of every 10 days (that was really just a ratio that I came up with without even thinking about it, so...grain of salt here) I'm going to be wearing green anyway. In all actuality, freaking Labor Day should get me more excited than St. Patrick's, at least we get school off. But, no, it's still a good holiday somehow. Though it would be better if I were home right now and had the green waffles that I can guarantee you my mother made this morning. For the average person, March 17th is merely a celebration of the color green. It’s a nice color, but…why doesn’t red get a day? Or brown? Or yellow? Or…cerulean?
Every year, I get excited for St. Patrick's Day. However, the only way it's actually different from the average day is I make sure to wear green. And recall that 3 out of every 10 days (that was really just a ratio that I came up with without even thinking about it, so...grain of salt here) I'm going to be wearing green anyway. In all actuality, freaking Labor Day should get me more excited than St. Patrick's, at least we get school off. But, no, it's still a good holiday somehow. Though it would be better if I were home right now and had the green waffles that I can guarantee you my mother made this morning. For the average person, March 17th is merely a celebration of the color green. It’s a nice color, but…why doesn’t red get a day? Or brown? Or yellow? Or…cerulean?
Mar 15, 2006
haircut
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Emilee cut my hair yesterday morning. I’ve been looking at getting at least a trim for a while now, due to damaged and messy-looking ends. However, I was really just thinking trim: an inch-and-a-half-ish. But on a whim, Emilee and I decided to do a lot more. So I’m five or six inches shorter now, and it feels crazy, but I like it. I still have “long hair,” defined as “past the shoulders”. Though I no longer have “really long hair,” defined as “creating the possiblity for one to appear in a movie topless but have things covered enough to get a PG rating.”
The first couple days of getting a hair cut are fun because doing it every day is still an adventure and people notice the change and compliment you.
Despite the proximity in time, the decision to chop my hair had nothing to do with the fact that I had to deal with a recent break-up, though it has provided many a fabulous joke:
“I thought I’d cut my hair just in case the real reason he broke up with me was that he thought my hair was too long, but he was too afraid to say it in case it hurt my feelings, so he just told me he hates me instead.”
“Well, I’ve always said I want long hair for my wedding, but now that I’m single, that day is looking farther away, so I figured, why not?”
Can I just say to the weather, "Quit playing games with my heart!"? If it wants to be spring, then just do it. If it wants to stay winter, fine, do it. This flirting with the issue is not good for me, though. And makes it impossible to know what to wear. It was snowing again this morning. Ridiculous.
Emilee cut my hair yesterday morning. I’ve been looking at getting at least a trim for a while now, due to damaged and messy-looking ends. However, I was really just thinking trim: an inch-and-a-half-ish. But on a whim, Emilee and I decided to do a lot more. So I’m five or six inches shorter now, and it feels crazy, but I like it. I still have “long hair,” defined as “past the shoulders”. Though I no longer have “really long hair,” defined as “creating the possiblity for one to appear in a movie topless but have things covered enough to get a PG rating.”
The first couple days of getting a hair cut are fun because doing it every day is still an adventure and people notice the change and compliment you.
Despite the proximity in time, the decision to chop my hair had nothing to do with the fact that I had to deal with a recent break-up, though it has provided many a fabulous joke:
“I thought I’d cut my hair just in case the real reason he broke up with me was that he thought my hair was too long, but he was too afraid to say it in case it hurt my feelings, so he just told me he hates me instead.”
“Well, I’ve always said I want long hair for my wedding, but now that I’m single, that day is looking farther away, so I figured, why not?”
Can I just say to the weather, "Quit playing games with my heart!"? If it wants to be spring, then just do it. If it wants to stay winter, fine, do it. This flirting with the issue is not good for me, though. And makes it impossible to know what to wear. It was snowing again this morning. Ridiculous.
Mar 10, 2006
disappointments abound
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
"Why is the flag at half-mast?" "Didn't you hear? We lost to Utah last night."
"Why is the flag at half-mast?" "Didn't you hear? We lost to Utah last night."
Mar 9, 2006
i like ike
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I'm not voting in the BYUSA elections. Call me a freedom-hating, anti-democratic pig, if you will, but...who actually cares? I'm sorry, but whoever the president of our student association is, he's (I'm not being sexist, it's just all everyone in the finals does happen to be male) (which is actually nice because then I don't have to deal with the annoying "he or she" thing) (though I will remind all that "he or she" is the correct grammar and "they" is ONLY used when talking about more than one person and it drives me batty when that rule is not adhered to) not going to have enough impact on my life for me to bother figuring out what the issues are and what the various stands are on them. It's nice enough that they have platforms, but BYUSA actually has nada in the power department. The candidates can say they'll improve the parking situation, or have more concerts on campus, or whatever their pet projects are, but let's be honest...all being BYUSA president means is giving a speech at New Student Orientation and maybe having some say in what the posters for Homecoming dances will look like.
However, I don’t really have a problem with all the free candy or hot chocolate or whatever being handed out by campaigners.
I'm not voting in the BYUSA elections. Call me a freedom-hating, anti-democratic pig, if you will, but...who actually cares? I'm sorry, but whoever the president of our student association is, he's (I'm not being sexist, it's just all everyone in the finals does happen to be male) (which is actually nice because then I don't have to deal with the annoying "he or she" thing) (though I will remind all that "he or she" is the correct grammar and "they" is ONLY used when talking about more than one person and it drives me batty when that rule is not adhered to) not going to have enough impact on my life for me to bother figuring out what the issues are and what the various stands are on them. It's nice enough that they have platforms, but BYUSA actually has nada in the power department. The candidates can say they'll improve the parking situation, or have more concerts on campus, or whatever their pet projects are, but let's be honest...all being BYUSA president means is giving a speech at New Student Orientation and maybe having some say in what the posters for Homecoming dances will look like.
However, I don’t really have a problem with all the free candy or hot chocolate or whatever being handed out by campaigners.
Mar 7, 2006
Pi
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
From the Wikipedia article on pi, talking about fictional references to the number:
“The Simpsons – ‘Pi is exactly 3!’ was an announcement used by Professor Frink to gain the full attention of a hall full of scientists.”
Now which classifies me as a nerd more fully: the fact that I was reading an article about pi, or the fact that when I read the above quote for the first time, I read “Pi is exactly 3 factorial.”?
How embarrassing.
From the Wikipedia article on pi, talking about fictional references to the number:
“The Simpsons – ‘Pi is exactly 3!’ was an announcement used by Professor Frink to gain the full attention of a hall full of scientists.”
Now which classifies me as a nerd more fully: the fact that I was reading an article about pi, or the fact that when I read the above quote for the first time, I read “Pi is exactly 3 factorial.”?
How embarrassing.
Mar 6, 2006
Ramblings on a lonely work day
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
At work, at work…
Working in admissions for a church school means sometimes seeing ridiculous stuff like reading a letter of recommendation that start with: “Dear Saints in Zion”. Or the people that think they can pull weight because their dad is a stake president or something. Oh, ridiculousness.
I made a cake last night. It really was an excuse to try to perfect my frosting recipe. And it was yet another frosting failure. Next time, though…I’m thinking I’ll not put any milk or water in it at all, and just let the moisture come from the fruit. Because it always ends up too runny and then I end up trying to compensate by putting in more and more powdered sugar and then I end up with three times more frosting than I need and it also ends up with only the faintest taste of the cream cheese and fruit…but I’m working on it.
Every page of the application for BYU has a spot on it for a social security number except for the second page of the “high school information”. So we have to copy the number at the top of the second page of every one when getting the papers ready to image. Apparently it’s been like that for years, but really, you’d think that sometime someone would realize this and just put a spot for the number on there. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix, I’m sure. I wonder who you’d talk to about changing it. Probably nobody knows, or else it would’ve been fixed.
The word “damn” is not allowed on BYU campus unless you’re in a religion class or it is followed with the word “Utes”. It’s in the honor code.
My window-mate, Blake, is on a cruise this week, so it’s lonely up here. And I came here excited to talk to him about the Oscars. I’m sure he’s surprised (along with everyone else) that Brokeback didn’t get Best Picture and he’s sorry he didn’t actually make a bet with Joe about Reese Witherspoon winning. And he would ask me who I thought was the best and worst dressed on the red carpet. But instead, I’m here singing Hotel California quietly to myself because it’s far too silent.
I’m pleased to announce that Timothy has learned to play and to love the game of nickels. Now Emilee and I don’t have to spend hours trying to find someone to play with us and then still not have anyone and so we watch TV and pine away for last year. Ah, playing nickels with Allison Ellsworth…good times.
My absolute favorite thing that we do at work is going through unknown papers and trying to figure out whose file they belong in. It’s a bunch of detective work. We’ll read the letter regarding “Scott Johnson” and then go through the records of the 66 Scott Johnson’s that have ever applied to BYU to figure out which one the letter goes with. It’s really quite fun. The less material you have to work with, the better, because you have to do more intuitive work. Like most letters will include that someone is “hard-working” and all sorts of other completely useless information. But then we’ll get a little point to work off of: it’ll mention that he moved to another state when he was sixteen. And then we can go into the records and find the one guy out of the five you’ve whittled it down to that attended more than one high school. And then we’re still not quite positive, but you read his student essay and it talks about his eagle project and it matches the eagle project that is mentioned in the letter, and you’re good to go. It’s so fun. Sometimes Blake and I will race on a hard one, and I have to tell you, I always win.
The girl who just came to the window was named, and I kid you not, Sunny Rainbows Kim. You always wonder what kind of parents that sort of names come from.
At work, at work…
Working in admissions for a church school means sometimes seeing ridiculous stuff like reading a letter of recommendation that start with: “Dear Saints in Zion”. Or the people that think they can pull weight because their dad is a stake president or something. Oh, ridiculousness.
I made a cake last night. It really was an excuse to try to perfect my frosting recipe. And it was yet another frosting failure. Next time, though…I’m thinking I’ll not put any milk or water in it at all, and just let the moisture come from the fruit. Because it always ends up too runny and then I end up trying to compensate by putting in more and more powdered sugar and then I end up with three times more frosting than I need and it also ends up with only the faintest taste of the cream cheese and fruit…but I’m working on it.
Every page of the application for BYU has a spot on it for a social security number except for the second page of the “high school information”. So we have to copy the number at the top of the second page of every one when getting the papers ready to image. Apparently it’s been like that for years, but really, you’d think that sometime someone would realize this and just put a spot for the number on there. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix, I’m sure. I wonder who you’d talk to about changing it. Probably nobody knows, or else it would’ve been fixed.
The word “damn” is not allowed on BYU campus unless you’re in a religion class or it is followed with the word “Utes”. It’s in the honor code.
My window-mate, Blake, is on a cruise this week, so it’s lonely up here. And I came here excited to talk to him about the Oscars. I’m sure he’s surprised (along with everyone else) that Brokeback didn’t get Best Picture and he’s sorry he didn’t actually make a bet with Joe about Reese Witherspoon winning. And he would ask me who I thought was the best and worst dressed on the red carpet. But instead, I’m here singing Hotel California quietly to myself because it’s far too silent.
I’m pleased to announce that Timothy has learned to play and to love the game of nickels. Now Emilee and I don’t have to spend hours trying to find someone to play with us and then still not have anyone and so we watch TV and pine away for last year. Ah, playing nickels with Allison Ellsworth…good times.
My absolute favorite thing that we do at work is going through unknown papers and trying to figure out whose file they belong in. It’s a bunch of detective work. We’ll read the letter regarding “Scott Johnson” and then go through the records of the 66 Scott Johnson’s that have ever applied to BYU to figure out which one the letter goes with. It’s really quite fun. The less material you have to work with, the better, because you have to do more intuitive work. Like most letters will include that someone is “hard-working” and all sorts of other completely useless information. But then we’ll get a little point to work off of: it’ll mention that he moved to another state when he was sixteen. And then we can go into the records and find the one guy out of the five you’ve whittled it down to that attended more than one high school. And then we’re still not quite positive, but you read his student essay and it talks about his eagle project and it matches the eagle project that is mentioned in the letter, and you’re good to go. It’s so fun. Sometimes Blake and I will race on a hard one, and I have to tell you, I always win.
The girl who just came to the window was named, and I kid you not, Sunny Rainbows Kim. You always wonder what kind of parents that sort of names come from.
Mar 1, 2006
Motivation. such an aggravation.
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I was thinking I'd write an entry, but I really can't think of a thing to write about, which indicates that the drive to write had a lot more to do with not wanting to do my math homework than the need to share something with the little world of my readers.
Until we meet again!
I was thinking I'd write an entry, but I really can't think of a thing to write about, which indicates that the drive to write had a lot more to do with not wanting to do my math homework than the need to share something with the little world of my readers.
Until we meet again!
Feb 23, 2006
Macaroons and Mustard
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I’m in a computer lab and the guy sitting next to me is working on a power point about A Doll’s House. Whenever I think about that play I’m suddenly sitting in Shiva’s living room and laughing like a maniac about something that had to do with macaroons. But I can never quite remember exactly what was so funny.
And, yet again, a Nate quote:
“I feel so sorry for people who don’t like mustard and/or onions. I mean, they’re going to spend their WHOLE lives working so hard to make it to the Celestial Kingdom, and then they’ll get there and realize that they don’t even like the sandwiches there. Because, let’s be honest, heavy on the mustard and heavy on the onions is as close as you get to divinity in this life.”
I’m in a computer lab and the guy sitting next to me is working on a power point about A Doll’s House. Whenever I think about that play I’m suddenly sitting in Shiva’s living room and laughing like a maniac about something that had to do with macaroons. But I can never quite remember exactly what was so funny.
And, yet again, a Nate quote:
“I feel so sorry for people who don’t like mustard and/or onions. I mean, they’re going to spend their WHOLE lives working so hard to make it to the Celestial Kingdom, and then they’ll get there and realize that they don’t even like the sandwiches there. Because, let’s be honest, heavy on the mustard and heavy on the onions is as close as you get to divinity in this life.”
Feb 21, 2006
Really
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
So I’m back in Provo after a lovely weekend excursion to good ol’ Ridgecrest. And I’m pretty sure “good ol’ Ridgecrest” is the actual name of the town. I rode down with Timothy, and it didn’t take too long before we decided we wanted to give being together the ol’ college try again. This may or may not have been because we missed having someone to make out with.
But we do truly have a fabulous relationship and I’m really really really (though in general I oppose the juvenile theory that the more “really”s one puts in front of something the more they mean it) excited about having him again.
So I’m back in Provo after a lovely weekend excursion to good ol’ Ridgecrest. And I’m pretty sure “good ol’ Ridgecrest” is the actual name of the town. I rode down with Timothy, and it didn’t take too long before we decided we wanted to give being together the ol’ college try again. This may or may not have been because we missed having someone to make out with.
But we do truly have a fabulous relationship and I’m really really really (though in general I oppose the juvenile theory that the more “really”s one puts in front of something the more they mean it) excited about having him again.
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